


The B Squad Rules

by Tsukino_Akume



Category: Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukino_Akume/pseuds/Tsukino_Akume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it comes to scheduling B Squad's patrols, there are a specific set of rules one should always follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The B Squad Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IndigoMay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoMay/gifts).



> **Disclaimer/:** Not mine.  
>  **Warnings/:** Apparently this version of B Squad decided to swear and offhandedly mention sex. -Shrugs-  
>  **Author's Notes/:** Bridge's statistics came from [here](http://www.lawcore.com/car-accident/statistics.html).
> 
> The fuse box in a jeep like what B Squad drives is generally located somewhere below the steering wheel column.
> 
> I'm sorry that this isn't quite what you asked for. x.x I hope you like it anyway!

The couch in the common room wasn't as comfortable as it should have been. It wasn't all that comfortable in general, as was the case with most of what S.P.D. claimed to be furniture. He personally felt that anything that made you want to be up and moving again ten minutes after sitting down was not actual furniture.

Technically he *could* have gone to his room instead, but his bed was only slightly more comfortable than the couch. Also, moving. 

Someone flopped on top of him. 

"Ow," he mumbled, too tired to put more effort into complaining, let alone open his eyes. "That hurt." 

"Did not," Z retorted, already adjusting herself to lean on his shoulder, one leg thrown over his lap. 

"Did so." 

"You spent your entire day filing. You're whiny, not sore." 

"Am too sore," he argued. "My eyes hurt. My feet hurt. I have papercuts." 

"Poor baby. Want me to kiss your boo-boo?" 

He bit his cheek to keep from smiling. "Fuck you." 

"Been there, done that." 

He laughed, putting a hand to his ribs a moment later. "Man, don't make me laugh," he groaned. "I still hurt from training yesterday." 

"It's your own fault for letting Sky plan it," Syd's voice informed him. The couch shifted as she joined them, and Z's leg across his lap was suddenly heavier. "I warned you, but you didn't listen." 

"I had to," he replied, lifting a hand to where he vaguely guessed Syd's head to be. He was right, so he took a moment to pet her hair. "Sky gets nitpicky when he doesn't have something to obsess over. And Nitpicky Sky makes me want to do things that get me in trouble with Cruger." 

"You're already in trouble with Cruger," Z pointed out. 

"Exactly. There's only so long I'm willing to sort through petty crimes records before I start wanting to claw my eyes out." 

"Clawing your eyes out wouldn't be very helpful, though," Bridge said thoughtfully, flopping down beside him. "There's always audio filing." 

"And Cruger would probably find a way to punish me for damaging S.P.D. personnel or something," he groused, throwing an arm around Bridge's shoulder and pulling him in closer. 

A hand patted his thigh. "At least you finally made your own B Squad Rule," Syd soothed. 

"Hey, that's right," Bridge said brightly. "You're an official member of B Squad now." 

"Wait, what?" Z demanded. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought we were already B Squad." 

"Oh, you are," Syd assured them. "It's just the rule thing." 

"It's kind of unofficial that you only become an official member of B Squad after you've had a rule made about you," Bridge explained. "And you're finally a rule, so you're unofficially official. Congratulations!" 

" ... Why do I think I should feel insulted?" he asked warily. 

"It's not exactly a compliment," Sky drawled from somewhere near the doorway. 

"You just don't like that you have two rules," Syd sniffed. 

"Sky has two rules?" Sam piped up. His voice echoed somewhere around where Sky was; he must be in Sparkie the Nightlight mode. 

"Rule One and Rule Eight," Bridge confirmed. "I'm Rule Seven." 

"Rule Nine. Which was *not* my fault," Syd said pointedly. 

"Wait, what rules are you talking about?" Z demanded, moving away from him to sit up. 

"The Ranger Squad Rules," Sam informed them promptly. "It's a list of unofficial rules for assigning duties to any cadets who are Ranger track. I've never had my own rule," he added, sounding wistful. 

Jack finally cracked open an eye, observing the way the lightball seemed to droop slightly. 

"Actually Sam, you're Rule Eleven." Bridge told him. 

The lightball perked up a bit. " ... I am?" 

"What kind of rules are we talking about here?" Jack asked, wondering why Sam seemed so excited about having one. 

Sky huffed out a loud sigh, grabbing a datapad off the counter and sitting on the other side of Bridge. "Rule Seven: Never give Cadet Carson traffic duty. Rule Nine: Never have Cadet Drew as an instructor." 

"You skipped the beginning," Syd argued, rolling over slightly to frown at him. "You're not allowed to skip yourself." 

"Wait, why isn't Bridge supposed to get traffic duty?" Jack asked, puzzled. "Does he let everyone off or something?" 

Sky and Syd both laughed. For several minutes. Z looked annoyed. Jack just raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

Bridge smiled beatifically. 

"He lectures," Sky told him finally. "He writes tickets for the tiniest infraction, and then lectures them about what they did and why it matters and how easily they could go to jail or lose their license." 

"He makes people cry," Syd added, nodding in agreement. 

Jack stared. "Uh, *why*?" 

"It's important to take the rules of the road very seriously," Bridge informed them. "Thirty percent of car accident fatalities are attributed to driving above the speed limit. Thirty-three percent is due to reckless driving." 

He wanted to ask, because it seemed like there was something more to the story here, but he took one look at the bland, pleasant expression on Bridge's face and decided not to. 

"So why doesn't Syd get to be an instructor?" Z wanted to know, poking Syd in the ribs. 

"She makes people quit," Bridge answered cheerfully. 

Sky snorted. "She has no patience." 

Syd humphed. "I don't have patience for morons. There's a difference." 

Z looked amused. "So if Jack has a rule now, do I have one too?" 

"You're not allowed to direct traffic," Bridge told her. 

Jack laughed outright, knowing exactly what incident they were referring to. 

Z turned red. "It wasn't my fault," she argued. "Those idiots couldn't follow directions if there was a flashing neon sign above my head!" 

Syd patted her arm. "Of course they couldn't," she soothed. "That's why you're not allowed to direct traffic anymore." 

"So what's mine then?" Jack wondered. 

"Not allowed to handle small robbery," Sky said promptly. "Or at least not alone." 

"Hey, Luke's a good kid!" he argued. "He's just trying to get by, that's all." 

"And so was Frank, and Mark, and Sarah ... " Bridge counted off on his fingers, grinning. 

Jack huffed, folding his arms. "So what's Sam's?" 

The lightball perked up, hovering closer. 

"Never ask Sam to handle an interrogation," Sky answered. 

"Hey!" Sam protested. "That's - " 

"Cruger asked you three times," Sky interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Every time you say ' I’ve read this file. I already know he's guilty. What's the point?'" 

"It's not my fault I had to memorize criminal history before I came here," Sam muttered, sulking. 

"Okay, so that just leaves Sky." Z shifted to look at him. "So what'd you do?" 

Sky frowned. "I - " 

"Sky," Syd interrupted, sounding incredibly smug, "Is rules One and Eight. Rule Eight is to never send him for a wellness check, because he'll never leave." 

Jack sat up a little at that, slowly smirking. "Wait, what?" 

"He's too nice," Bridge explained. "Mrs. Denson kept asking him to do things around the house, and he couldn't say no." 

"She's eighty years old. It's not like she can fix her own dishwasher," Sky grumbled, folding his arms. 

Jack choked on a laugh, trying to clear his throat as Sky glared. "Ah. Well. That's, uh." 

"You're so sweet, Sky," Z teased. "So is Rule One don't let Cadet Tate rescue kittens and help old ladies across the street?" 

Sky flipped her off. 

"Actually Rule One is that Cadet Tate is not allowed to drive the car," Bridge told them. "Well, technically Cadets Tate, Harrington, and Charlesia." 

"Ever," Syd added firmly, as Jack wondered who Harrington and Charlesia were. 

He blinked down at her. "Ever?" 

"*Ever*." 

There was a long pause. 

"Okay, I'll bite," he decided. "Why?" 

"Hand sanitizer," Bridge and Syd said in unison. 

Sky scowled at the ground. 

Jack frowned in confusion. "What does hand sanitizer have to do with anything?" 

"Well, alcohol is flammable, right?" Bridge explained. "And hand sanitizer has a lot of alcohol in it." 

"And the fuse box to the patrol jeep is where?" Syd prompted. 

Jack and Z stared. 

Sky slouched down in his seat. 

"Wait ... " Sam said slowly. "Are you saying ... ?" 

"There was fire. The jeep almost exploded. They had to bring in the fire department." 

"Which lead to Rule Two," Bridge added absently. 

Jack shook his head slowly, still trying to fathom how hand sanitizer led to setting a car on fire. "So ... Sky doesn't drive the car." 

"Ever," Z agreed. 

Sky glowered.


End file.
